


Down and Dirty with a Handless Mannequin (M)

by thosepeanutbuttervibes



Category: SCP - Containment Breach, SCP Foundation
Genre: F/M, Grinding, Groping, Male Narrator, Masturbation, Object Sexuality, Orgasm, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pure Lust, Sex with a mannequin, objectophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosepeanutbuttervibes/pseuds/thosepeanutbuttervibes
Summary: We all know SCP-650 is an anomalous object that always tries to get a reaction out of people by suddenly appearing behind them at random times, but never moves and is never hostile. What if a certain fanfiction author twisted this idea so that SCP-650 would try to get a sexual reaction instead?This story includes a MALE narrator. There is also a FEMALE version on my profile.
Relationships: Narrator/SCP-650
Kudos: 30





	Down and Dirty with a Handless Mannequin (M)

**Author's Note:**

> boom, the product of me and my partner becuz i have no idea what its like to have a dick
> 
> !!ALSO!! if you have already read my female version of this (which was the first version i made btw) then you might notice that the beginning is copy n pasted. when things start getting dirty, the writing completely changes

Consciousness ebbed back into me, and slowly my senses started to make sense of where I was. The ground was cold and concrete. The air: dry and dusty. All around me it was silent and dark (I hadn’t opened my eyes). Meanwhile, my head throbbed in immense pain. I lifted my arm to rub my forehead, and found that my joints popped with the simple movements. Tiny ripples of pain went through every muscle that moved. A groan slipped out of my mouth. The spot that hurt was very tender, and a little swollen. I guessed I had hit my head somehow.

Light suddenly stabbed into my eyes like swords when I opened them just a teensy bit. Again I groaned. After a bit of massaging on my eyelids, I dared to look again, and saw that I was in an unfamiliar room. It was all cold and concrete by the looks of it, even from the floor where I laid. Dim, too, despite how my eyes were stabbed. 

Slowly and through the stiffness, I brought myself to my feet and stretched like a cat awakening from a nice nap. My joints were so stiff that I had probably been laying where I was for hours. Alright, so I was unconscious for hours, and I hit my head somehow, and that would explain why I didn’t remember this room; however, there was nothing in sight I could have hit my head on. Maybe I was just that clumsy. Anyway, that was what  _ was _ .  _ Now _ remembering where I was might have been helpful, but getting out probably was more important. I had a feeling I wasn’t supposed to be here.

First: bearings. The room was square with a rounded wall that jutted inwards like the outside of a cylinder. A yellow band of paint covered the wall with the cylinder, with the code CH-13 printed over it in black letters. Doors were on either side of the cylinder. One of them had to be the way out.

Second: pick a door. The one directly left of the cylinder gave me some darn good vibes. The green, glowing touchpad to its right was the key to opening it: a basic statement, yes, but it took me longer to figure out than I’d like to admit. I digress, the door still opened and I still went through. Easy peasy, problem solved. 

The room on the other side was much more disappointing than the last. It was still concrete, but much smaller. To the right, however, was a large glass window. On the other side was a room that mirrored the one I was in, with a slight difference: in the center was a tall, black mannequin. How peculiar. I couldn’t help but walk up to the glass. It was black, polished, and obviously crafted by an expert. Its sheen was lustrous and captivating, as was its pose. Here it stood in the middle of its room, facing away from me, and looking like it was about to have a beat-down with the wall. I mean, its stubs-for-fists were raised and everything. I couldn’t help but grin.

Perched in the corners of the room were strobe lights and cameras. Looked like pretty heavy security for a mannequin. I shrugged on my way out the door; maybe it was one-of-a-kind, or a priceless heirloom. If so, it deserved better than a concrete showcase.

The left side of my first room hadn’t given me much luck, so I went for the right next. 

Once through the door, I turned around to close it and the mannequin stood right there. Its head was angled to look right at me, and it stood straight like a soldier. Obviously, it was defying the laws of physics by moving through its enclosed room, but it didn’t seem threatening. No, right now it was just… following me. Maybe analyzing me. Would that thing even be capable of thought? Well, either way, this could be fun. 

I closed the door and turned my back to walk through the next room to another door. Blah, blah, blah, it was made of concrete and had a bunch more doors to choose from, blah, blah, next door opened. I turned around before crossing rooms and saw the mannequin again. This time it was bent forward a bit, still standing, and had one would-be hand against its chin, and the other on its hip. The damn thing  _ was _ analyzing me! I called it! It looked so sassy too. I had to turn away as I laughed because it felt so embarrassing to laugh at a physics-defying mannequin. 

When I turned back to look again, the analyzing mannequin was only a foot away from me, squatting, and also looking directly at my crotch. Real, humiliating embarrassment washed over me. Hot blood flowed to my growing member against my will. I started backing away. My hands flew to cover the annoying bulge between my legs that just kept getting more incessant.

“Hey, mannequin…” I stuttered out. “How about you don’t?” I turned around and started walking away, trying to ignore the rub of my clothes against my member. Mid-step, I had to stop because there it was again, and this time it was posed as if it could be looming over me. I had never felt so submissive in my life, and this was a fucking mannequin we were talking about! And still that blood kept flowing South no matter how much I wanted it to stop. All I could do was try to keep my cool...

I huffed, side-stepped it, and kept walking cool-like despite my 

_ (boner) _

unease. I was a bad liar. 

Before stepping through the newly-opened door, temptation took over and I went to take a step and glance behind me: nothing. _‘Oh, thank the fucking heavens!’_ One smooth exhale later and I could feel myself easing up down there, thank fuck. A single step later and something big and smooth harshly rubbed against my cock. Shivers went up my spine and guilty pleasure sparked from my groin. A meek sound dared to come up out of my throat and I suppressed it quickly. Through gritted teeth and clenched eyes, I looked down.

Sure enough there was a mannequin’s arm shoved between my legs. Another sound tried to bubble up out of my throat. It never moved its hand/arm… Why did I like it? Careful not to let that thing graze my dick again, I stepped up and away and through the door I had come through. God, this fucking mannequin could not be serious. I looked behind me again, this time with my hands protectively over my groin. My eyes fell onto the mannequin, again, this time on its gently spread knees, looking up at me innocently.

No. Mannequins don’t look innocent. They don’t look like anything other than fucking mannequins. Why was I debating this? I fully turned my body around. I was stiff, done, fed-up; yet, I couldn’t resist indulging my eyes again, just one more time.

The mannequin was… in an interesting pose. It was laying on its side, propped up on one of its elbows. Its legs were spread, and its free arm was positioned by its groin, as if carressing something wonderfully wet: as if it was asking for me. Oh no. My blood was pumping again. This was bait. It was definitely fucking bait, but my urges did not care. My heart thumped in my ears, and I was growing, I could  _ feel  _ it. I was getting hotter and harder. My body and cock wanted and would soon demand satisfaction. My legs drew me closer, one step at a time toward the mannequin.

At first I tried to squat but then realized how tight my jeans were. I settled for kneeling. Then I reached out. My hands groped a pair of tits that weren’t there, imagining the soft flesh move around in my kneading hands, and the ever-increasing warmth of them. My mouth was drying up like a desert while it seemed like all the blood in my body was flowing straight to the base of my cock. I bit my lip as I made a risky move and let one hand trail down, grazing a soft tummy, all the way down to the folds between the legs. If only those legs of the mannequin’s could part for me and invite me to rub harder, insert one finger, and then another. If only soft whimpers could fall from its lips with every pinch or tease of its nipple, thanking me for what I was giving and egging me to give more. God, I actually fucking wanted that.

My cock was almost rock-hard. It wasn’t enough to just undo my fly and jerk, these jeans and undies were coming off  _ now _ , and  _ fuck _ did it feel good. The air was a bit chilly, but everything felt too warm. To my cock, everything felt just  _ good _ . Sounds of friction echoed in the empty room. My eyes were rolling and I was biting my lip. Every stroke sent a wave of pleasure directly to that sweet spot in my brain. Every miniature movement made pleasure: right now there was no such thing as moving without the feeling.

I slowed to a stop until my panting was the only sound in the room. My eyes landed on the mannequin’s non-existent face. I hesitated, then leaned in enough to tease a real person with a kiss. Gently, I cradled the back of its head and I whispered. “I want you, baby, and you want me too, right? You want my hard cock? Tell me you do.”

Throbbing, it was fucking throbbing now. Every bit of my desire was accumulating within that special organ between my legs, and it wanted _out_. “I’m going to turn around,” I breathed. “You only move when I’m not looking, right? Please, tell me you want it when I look back. _Show me._ Show me how much you want me.”

Up this close, I felt obligated to cave into my desire to kiss it. My lips and tongue met simple, smooth plastic, but the contact was like pure energy and pleasure all in one. It was addicting, but I needed to pull away. I had to let the mannequin  _ show me _ . Then we could have some real fun.

I stood up and turned away from the mannequin. Nothing but silence sounded behind me, and cold air struck the backs of my bare legs, making the hairs stand on end. In this awkward and cold moment, I thought maybe I might get soft again. How long does it take for a physics-defying mannequin to get ready, again? Oh.. right.

That mannequin was in the most gorgeous position: flat on its back, legs high in the air, and arms against the floor, bracing for impact. My cock ached just from seeing it. Slowly I approached, and let my hands glide up and down its thighs. It was definitely ready. I reached down and rubbed at a slit that wasn’t there and that didn’t coat my fingers with a deliciously slick fluid that sent my instincts into overdrive. 

My half-lidded eyes looked up at its face and I smirked. “You’re  _ definitely _ ready, baby.” I rubbed at its clit and grinned as I positioned myself.

I rutted against its pelvis like an untamed beast. There was no friction. No burning. Just an arousal that hung over me like a thick haze, that I never wanted to let go of but  _ had  _ to satisfy. I clutched onto the two legs on either side of me, holding them up. I thrusted and thrusted, and when I wasn’t thrusting, my hips pushed themselves to thrust. The illusion that something was clamping down on my cock, along every single inch and with every muscle, filled my mind. Nothing else mattered. I just wanted to fuck this thing, forever. My moans shifted to grunts, to whimpers, to groans. There was no stopping me. I held on tighter and let my head fall back, almost hearing the delighted screams of submission that should have been coming from its mouth. Oh my  _ God _ , this could never end. 

I reached forward to grope those tits again. I fondled them and the sensation alone made my eyes roll. “Love, I’m going to cum if I keep this up,” I choked. “Do you want that?”

I heard nothing but all around me, the room screamed  _ YES _ . 

I clawed into its hips and held on while I thrusted into it like a fucking dog. Female moans sounded out from all around me, coming out from everywhere. Echoing. My hips slammed against its own, over and over, each slap sending a burst of pleasure through my body. It was building up, and I could feel it. Like water pouring into a cup, it was almost at the rim: about to overflow.

Everything spilled out and a long moan escaped me between my pants. The beast stopped thrusting, and instead I gave little, limp bucks. I couldn’t stop until I felt every drop had come out. Nothing else existed in this little bubble of love. I breathed, and didn’t mind the cold and the dust that stung my throat.

Orgasms never lasted long enough. My breath slowed and smoothened. Suddenly I was aware of how hard my heart had been beating earlier, now that it was calming down. Suddenly the sensation of being sticky with sweat settled in. I ran a hand through my hair, and there were little, cold drops of sweat littered throughout. Great, right?

As my body was still being gently rocked by my breath, I looked down. My dick lay surprisingly limp against the plastic pelvis of the mannequin. A not-so-little puddle of cum surrounded it too, and also ran off the mannequin’s pelvis onto the ground. I chuckled… and when I looked up at the mannequin’s face, all I saw was its regular face, but somehow, and I don’t know how, a wave of dopamine-happiness rushed over me. 

I lugged my body up and over beside the mannequin. Thankfully I had a second thought to grab my clothes first to cover the dusty floor because immediately I flopped onto the floor. I layed there, panting and spent beside the mannequin. It was cold here… but nice. Really nice. A dumb, lazy smile painted my face. I could wait to stand.

It was funny that a mannequin could make me feel so good. All I did was hump it, and that was  _ way _ more than good enough for me. Plus, I had never been this tired post-sex before. Maybe that’s because I had to do most of the moving, but nobody could tell me right then that  _ part _ of it wasn’t because it was fucking amazing.

Some time later and with a non-sexual groan, I lifted myself up and reverse-stripped. It wasn’t too hard; I thought I was recovering quickly. When I was done, something incited me to look back again. I saw the mannequin on its knees, perched on its heels and with its hands in its lap. Again, it conjured another goofy grin from me. I walked up to that darn mannequin for the last time. Lovingly, I held its face in my hands and planted a kiss on its forehead. No arms wrapped around me or settled on top of my own hands. I let go. Alone, I walked through the door to another dusty, gray room.

  
  


" **Description:** SCP-650 is a black statue of a stylized humanoid 167cm tall. The statue does not possess hands or facial features: the limbs taper off into rounded points and the head is a smooth surface all around... If the statue is not being observed, it will relocate itself to a point immediately behind whomever is in the containment site and assume a threatening posture... not yet shown any signs of active aggression or hostility... it is theorized that this may simply be a secondary method of generating reactions.

**Addendum:** Following a containment breach on ██/██/████ at roughly 0200 hours, SCP-650 was found in a room adjacent to its containment chamber. Dried seminal fluids belonging to Dr. ████ were found on the subject's pelvis. The reasons for the placement of Dr. ████'s fluids and why he was in the building at the hour is still unclear due to his amnesia and security equipment malfunctions."


End file.
